


Don't

by Kitten_Prince314



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Smut, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 19:57:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3146696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitten_Prince314/pseuds/Kitten_Prince314
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’s teasing you, seeing how far she can push, and something inside you is letting her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't

**Author's Note:**

> Set before THE TRILOGY, but after Shaw's cover is blown.   
> Because we all need some fluff smut right now.  
> My first go at writing a sex scene in a veeeerrry long time, Lemmie know how I did.   
> And let us all join hands and pray for Shaw's eventual return. For Root's sake.

You sigh, leaning forward and resting your hands against the wall of boxes in front of you. You’re tired. It’s day three on this particular number and you aren’t sure you’ve slept since Finch decided they’d need your help after all. You’d lept at the chance to get the hell out of the dungeon you’ve been couped up in. You were ready for any kind of action really. And a number where even the brains of the group required your skill set was exactly the kind of adrenaline-fueled challenge you were looking for. 

But having to lay beneath Samaritans radar has made this all the more difficult. Ducking cameras, keeping silent, avoiding agents. You feel like you spend more time not being detected than you do actually working on the damn number. And Samaritan is getting smarter. The blonde one is all over you and you still aren’t sure how she finds you so damn fast. She’s relentless. She’s vicious. You’re mildly surprised you made it through this last fire fight without a bullet hole.

Your companion shifts behind you as the train you’ve taken refuge in begins to move and you both breathe a little sigh of relief. The last phase of the mission was successful. You made it. Nothing to do now but wait until the train takes you to wherever it is you are supposed to be going. She shifts again and steps closer. You don’t move.

“No cameras in here. We’re safe for now.” You know what she means by this. That YOU are safe. That she does not have to worry about YOU for the time being. You close your eyes and nod, already tired of being protected. Even IF that little hitch in her voice when she talks about you being safe makes something inside of you twinge. You try to block it out. The look in her eyes as you both ran for the train, bullets whizzing past as the blonde agent targeted mainly you. You can not afford to surrender to that. To whatever it is that makes it hard for you to breathe when she is near. 

She moves closer and you can tell she’s switched from genuine concern to… whatever it is she feels when she teases you. Her hands land gently on your shoulders and you are reminded again of the height difference. You know if you turned around you’d have to look up at her. Up into those eyes swirling with whatever it is that she looks at you with. And you aren’t sure you can do it. Not now. For some reason, here in the dark, your breathing still a little heavy, your gun several clips lighter, your life so recently on the line, you can’t find it in yourself to clear everything inside of you away. It’s not all quietly dissipating. Not easily being stuffed away into the far corners of your mind. So as her hands begin to gently roam over your back, you do little more than stiffen slightly, still leaned against the boxes.

“Just checking you for injuries.” Comes the playful lilt. Real concern is hidden underneath her banter and you aren’t sure when you got to know her well enough to know that. Her hands are firm and slow and wander down your shoulders and spine, covering the same areas over and over again and if she were truly looking for injuries, she surely would have found them by now. She’s teasing you, seeing how far she can push, and something inside you is letting her. You should’ve stopped her already. Should’ve taken a swing at her. Should’ve threatened her or growled and stepped away, but you don’t.

She takes advantage of this, moving closer and you feel her press against your back. Her hands roam towards your stomach, still ostensibly checking you for wounds. She’s slowed down though. And you know that she’s waiting for you to stop her. She’s wondering why you haven’t yet and she’s not sure she should keep pushing. You aren’t sure either. 

Up and down your arms, across your shoulders, down your sides. She moves ever slower and you know she’s watching the side profile of your face. Waiting for your reaction. Trying to read you. She doesn’t speak and neither do you. Her movements are hesitant and you can’t help it. You’re curious. Will she stop? If she doesn’t, you don’t think you will be the one to be the voice of reason. Not this time. Not again. Her breathing has picked up a bit and yours has too if you’re being honest with yourself. 

Finally her hands come to rest on the forward arch of your hips. Your tank top has ridden up just enough that her thumbs can barely skim the hot skin beneath. Her fingers move lightly, hardly touching, and you think that now at least. Now you should push away. If you don’t, this wont be able to be explained away. If you don’t, that heat in your stomach could overwhelm you. If you don’t……if you don’t you don’t know what will happen after.

You raise your head slightly and tilt your head back. Not enough to make eye contact, just so she knows you are looking at her. You take in her profile. The face that has somehow snuck into your dreams. You shift your stance slightly, standing a little straighter, and you make your decision. You _don‘t._ You press back into her. 

You hear the hitch in her breathing when she realizes what you’ve just told her. What permission you’ve just given her. You feel the tremble run down her body and into yours and her grip on you tightens. She lets out a shaky breath and you know she’s probably just as lost in all of this as you are. You doubt she knows what to call this. That she could put a name to whatever thing bounces between the two of you whenever your eyes meet. Maybe you just do not want to acknowledge that she might know what it means. Maybe, you do not want to know yet. At least, you know she certainly never expected this. A part of you, larger than you would like to admit, hopes she does not deny your silent offer. You refuse to admit you are relived and happy when she does not disappoint. 

Slowly, her fingers work their way under the edge of your top and you cannot repress your shiver when her nails lightly scratch across your skin. You close your eyes as her hands slide higher. One second they are ghost touches, like she cannot believe she is doing this. That you are letting her do this. That this is you. The next second they are firm strokes, sure and confident. Feeling and exploring and caressing. You let her touch you. You know she’s wanted to for a while. You’ve seen the looks she’s given you. She seems to be enjoying this as much as you are. 

Your head tips back and you let yourself experience it as she pushes your tank ever higher. The softness of her hands on your abs, the heat of her pressed into your back, her breath puffing lightly against the side of your head. This should be entirely to cuddly for you, but it isn’t. You don’t know why and for now, you don’t bother questioning it.

She’s hesitating again. Her fingers dancing across your ribcage, and you can’t help but quirk a small grin. This woman pushes you to the limit of uncomfortable every chance she gets. Turns everything you say into a dirty joke. Her words to you drip with innuendo and double-meaning. She regularly undresses you with her eyes. And now, you’ve given her the go ahead, and she’s double checking with you to make sure it’s okay. You should be annoyed that things aren’t moving right along. Instead, you find it sweet that she’s being so….. _sure_ …about this. You don’t know what to make of that either.

You bite your lip in hesitation, but you already know what you want. So you lean back against her, arching your back in enough that she gets the point. She sucks in a breath, and lets it out in a shuddering almost laugh. You can tell, she thought you were going to deny her. That this was going to end. And now, now she knows. Knows that you don’t plan to tell her to stop. She seems happy with this knowledge. In awe of it actually and you ignore the tug at your heart that this thought causes. Then her hands move higher and it’s an entirely different kind of tug that pulls at your insides.

It’s light at first. Her hands barely cup your breasts and you almost can’t feel her touch through the fabric covering your skin. But you know she’s there. She’s forcing her breathing to even out. Trying not to show you how much she wants this. How much she wants you. But you want to know. So you tilt your head forward again, and your body follows the motion. Pushing forward into her hands and you can’t help the hiss that escapes you when she holds firm. She starts to knead lightly, and you think that it is the best word you can come up with for it. She squeezes and releases again and again. You aren’t large, and when your eyes flutter open briefly you almost grin at the image. You fit pretty perfectly into her hands and for a moment you watch her touch you. Your heavy breathing the only indication that you are affected by what she is doing. Then her thumbs move, brushing over your nipples that are very obviously affected and your eyes slam shut again. 

She notices your sensitivity and focuses her attention there. Her nails lightly graze across over and over and you are breathing through your mouth now. A pinch to both of them, even through your bra, and a small gasp is pulled from your throat. She repeats the move a few more times. Tweaking and pulling and tugging. Always so gently. And though your brain is quickly becoming muddled, you think about the oddness of it all. Whenever you’d thought about this moment before, and you have thought about it more times than you will ever admit to, you thought it would be rough. Tongues and teeth and scratching. A fight for dominance and pain mixed with pleasure. This….this tenderness…..is not what you have ever imagined. 

A pinch, harder than the others brings with it another sharp gasp and her hands slip back down to your ribcage. Her fingers are warm on your skin and this time she does not hesitate as she pushes back up, taking your bra with her. Cold air against your sensitive skin hitches your breath slightly before her hands take hold again. The contrast between the warm skin and brisk air, the gentle touches and rougher pinching and rolling has your breathing doubled. You are completely focused on her nearness. On the burning where her skin touches yours. On the heat rising inside you at the physical pleasure. You do your best to ignore the completely different heat that rises when you realize that you can feel her chest rise and fall against your back, and that her breathing has doubled too.

She seems fascinated by her affect on you, and stays where she is, teasing you, for longer than you know you have ever let someone linger before. She is touching you not as a stop along the way. Not as a necessity that must come before the big finish, but because she enjoys it. Because _you_ enjoy it. And you don’t think you’ve had that before. You have never allowed that before. And the only thing that is odd to you about that is… it is no longer odd to you. What she does to you, all of these things swirling around inside of you around her. They are _only_ around her. And you are almost used to how different this thing with her is. 

Eventually though, you start to move in tandem with her strokes, pressing harder into her hands. Desiring stronger and harder pressure. She decides to move along. Deftly, her hands flutter back down your sides, leaving you shivering at the feeling, and she begins to gently tease across your waistband. You swallow hard when she stops again, hands frozen near the button of your jeans and you fight not to be distracted by just how endearing it is that she waits for you. Instead you focus on controlling the slight tremble in your arms as you slowly lift your hands from the wall. 

You reach back, firmly grabbing hold of her forearms and relish the whimper this elicits from her. Your grip is strong and you drag your hands down her arms until they rest on top of hers and she holds her breath. You smirk, and use your thumb to guide hers to that suddenly all consuming button. You pop it open together and the air releases from her lungs in another bout of near silent laughter. It is relief. She is glad for this. Wants this. And so do you. You pause for a moment, holding still and bracing yourself for what is next before deliberately moving your hands back against the wall. Your message is clear. This is her choice. Her show. 

An almost growl comes from her throat at your show of submission to her and when her lips connect with your shoulder, the intensity of your groan surprises you. Wet heat spreads up and down your neck as her mouth and tongue taste you. You didn’t even realize that you’d tilted your head, giving her better access. Her fingers start to run back and forth, dipping further below your waistband with each pass and when her teeth come into play you arch your hips forward on instinct. You can feel her smile into your shoulder as she nibbles. She’s pleased that she can do this to you. That you react to her like this. And she is very good at paying attention to how you react.

Every exhale has become a quiet gasp that intensifies as she dips ever lower, the metallic sound of your zipper sliding down sends another round of shudders through your body and she presses her hips hard against your ass. You bite your lip and push back into her. You like the friction, but you want more. Need more. You get it as both of her hands dip down, following the ‘V’ opening in your jeans and you feel her fingernails graze the skin of your thighs for the first time. Something that could be called a whine comes from your mouth and you inhale sharply. 

You weren’t prepared for just how much this would affect you. How much she affects you. You’ve had lovers in the past, a series of one night stands really. Some better than others. But you can’t remember ever looking forward to something quite this much. A deep need that you hadn’t let yourself be fully aware of until right now as she slowly scrapes back and forth, just below the bottom hem of your boy shorts. She grinds into you again, and uses the movement to push your zipper the rest of the way down. 

Her mouth hasn’t stopped moving, and her nip to your earlobe forces your hips to buck against her hands. You feel her smile as she sucks harder, and you hold your breath completely as one of her hands holds you firm against her while the other takes to tracing the elastic band across your lower stomach. It slips down, over the thin fabric and almost hesitantly a single digit traces down your center. Your whimper makes her whimper and she drags her nail back up along the center seam of your underwear with a little more pressure.

Your hips twitch again and for a moment you consider fighting it. Defying her and refusing to makes any sounds, any movements at all. It’s just the stubborn part of you that tends to go into overdrive whenever she is near. But then she does it again, using the full pad of her finger this time and you can’t think fast enough to stop the moan that comes from deep in your throat. She groans in response and attacks your neck with a renewed fervor. Her teeth take the lead and you gasp as her finger moves at the same time. One finger becomes two. Then three. Tracing you up and down. Teasing and pressing just hard enough for your body to jerk each time they run over that ever more sensitive bundle of nerves.

She doesn’t tease you for long. You are certain she can feel the shivers racing through your body. Feels you moving with her strokes. Following her fingers with your body in a silent plea for more. Slowly her hand slides beneath the cotton barrier and you exhale together. She stills for a moment, holding tight against that last little bit of skin above where you want her the most. The last stop before it is entirely too late to go back and you let her make the decision.

As if to distract you, her other hand comes back up, teasing your breasts again and you try to keep your focus on what she’s doing in both places at once. You can’t. Her sharp pinch to your nipple send sparks through your brain and all at once you feel her go the last bit of distance. She cups you, your wet heat already painfully obvious, and you gasp and groan again, shifting your hands on the wall. She presses harder, rubbing the heel of her hand against you lightly, and you rock against the pressure. She laughs at your impatience and her breath on your ear sends another wave of heat through you. You rock again, and she gives you what you want.

She slips between your folds and the feel of her there, touching you so intimately, has you gasping for air. Her breath catches, and you feel a bit of pride perhaps that _you_ can affect _her_ too. Then she pushes her hips against you again, forcing your body to run itself along her digit. You hold back what you are sure would have been an embarrassingly loud moan as she teases your entrance, but the second passes and she slips back up. The lightest graze of her finger across the bare flesh of your clit forces the largest twitch yet of your body and she smirks into your neck.

Again and again she explores you from top to bottom. That same infuriatingly slow pace that has you whining softly and rolling your hips with her movement. It makes you want to open your mouth and beg her to just _take_ you already. But you wont give her that satisfaction. You won’t stoop to that. Not yet anyway. 

Her mouth trails lightly across the back of your neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin there, before moving on to your other ear. She rocks her body in rhythm with yours, seemingly content to just feel you. To enjoy what she’s doing to you. But you are not content to just let her. You tilt your head, blocking her access to your neck and growl, pressing down on her hand, making your point. She smirks, nipping at the corner of your mouth and lets her fingers rub your clit firmly before purposefully gliding them down to your entrance. You whine again, hitching your breath as she pauses for a moment. Her breath feels heavy against your cheek, the tremble in her hand matches the one in your knees. Her grip around your stomach tightens briefly before she pushes up, and finally, _finally_ , enters you.

You squirm for a moment, adjusting to her, breathing in and out. It’s not that it feels amazing, not yet, but its _her_. Inside _you_. And that is what takes your breath away. She stills, moving against your walls, and you groan, shifting your stance to give her better access. Gently, she pulls out and then pushes back in. You are soaked, you can tell by the way she slides in and out of you with ease. As soon as she picks up the pace, she adds a second digit and you can’t hold your moan back. 

She makes noises with you and you would be fascinated with them if you could focus long enough to pay attention. As it is, your world is swiftly becoming blurry and her groans mix with yours, becoming white background noise that adds to your arousal. 

For once, her height over you puts her at a disadvantage, and she has to curl her body around yours to keep moving inside you. A small part of you finds some vindictive glee in this fact, but it’s not something you’ll really be able to think about until much later. Pressed close, her whole body moves with yours and you both rock together. 

Her fingers curl each time she pulls out, stroking that one spot inside you. Stoking the fire in your belly. Each thrust becomes harder, deeper, rougher, and you aren’t sure how much longer your legs will keep you up. Already your arms shiver and give out and you fall forward, resting on your forearms as she pushes harder, grinding into you. Your forehead feels cool against the wall and your lungs are working so hard you can feel the heat of each puff of air you exhale.

She adjusts her arm and suddenly white light arcs across your vision as her thumb rubs your clit. You rock against her with more force, aware that you whine and whimper and cry out _just_ that much louder with each exhale. She breathes your name, hot and heavy into your ear and her tone… _god_ her voice….you can feel yourself clench helplessly around her. She works you faster, pressing you up against the wall with each plunge and you ball your hands into fists. 

Your stomach is tight, your heart pounding, your blood turning to molten lava as she pushes you ever closer. You can feel it, the little spark of energy and anticipation. Already your toes curl, ready and waiting. She brings you up to the edge, moving against that red-hot spot in your center each time she goes deep and your belly feels full and hot and _oh_ ……god……her thumb twitches faster, little flashes of lightning that pulse through you and you clench your jaw, hissing through your teeth.

You are there. God right on the edge. Your eyes squeezed shut so hard spots dance and swim in front of you. You can’t breath, you’re dizzy. All you know is her, there, in you and around you. Her smell, her sounds, her heat melting into your back. If you could just….oh….just a little bit more……She feels you. Feels you clamp down hard on her hand and then she moves again.

She bites your shoulder…. hard. Hard enough that it snaps you out of the limbo your body was stuck in and the suddenness of it is like a tidal wave that finishes off any resistance left. You know you cry out her name, the explosion in your center rips the scream from your throat and you can’t do anything but ride it out. The hot wave ripples through your body and out your limbs and blinds you. Deafens you. Nothing exists for a moment and the pressure of her still in you, against your inner walls as your body reacts to the ecstasy, makes you come even harder. 

She presses on your clit and lightning tears through your vision again. You twitch against her, shivering, your muscles unable to hold out and your body sags, held up between her and the wall. You aren’t aware of when she lets the pressure off but you whimper when your vision starts to clear and she stays where she is as slowly you start to come down.

She’s breathing heavily onto your neck, still holding you up, and the first thing you do when you can finally move again is straighten your legs out so you are at least standing on your own. She lets you. And after a moment her arm moves and you could roll your eyes at yourself when you groan again as she pulls out of you. You don’t like how empty it makes you feel almost immediately and when you shiver, she presses a kiss to the bite mark that will no doubt bruise wonderfully.

Neither of you move for a moment and she seems happy to just hold you and let you recover. And while you certainly aren’t one for cuddling, you find you don’t really mind the feel of her wrapped around you as you focus on slowing your heart rate. The low, warm afterglow of bliss has seeped into your every cell now and it’s actually kind of…nice, being held close to her while you bask in it. 

All too soon though the floor beneath you shifts and you both realize that the train is beginning to slow down. Reality sets in and you hear her sigh as you stiffen your stance. With as much reluctance as you think she has ever put into _anything_ , she gives your ear one last soft kiss and pulls away from you. Her arms and hands unraveling from where they had softly been stroking your skin. You try your best not to focus on the cold and how much more it bothers you now in comparison to how warm she felt. She doesn’t speak, but you know she’s watching you as you adjust your clothes. Re-doing zippers and buttons. And by the time you are ready, a gun in your hand, the train is nearly stopped.

She follows you to the door where you both wait, ready to jump out into the fray once more. You can tell she’s hesitant though. Before you open the train car, you can’t help it. You tilt your head, a quirk to your smile and quip back to her.

“Thanks.” You can _feel_ her grin even if you can’t see it and you know you can hear the relief in her voice when she pushes close and _purrs_ back.

“Oh Sameen, _any_ time.” Your grip on your weapon is firm and even as you both exit, scanning for friend and foe alike, a quite large part your mind is already thinking about when to next take her up on her offer.


End file.
